


Follow the Leader

by levitatethis



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-17
Updated: 2010-05-17
Packaged: 2017-10-09 12:49:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/87672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levitatethis/pseuds/levitatethis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mohinder tries to come to terms with Sylar after his most recent appearance and disappearance while trying not to lose focus on The Company</p>
            </blockquote>





	Follow the Leader

**I   
**  
Mohinder no longer looks over his shoulder.

He cannot pinpoint the moment when he realized it was unnecessary.

If Sylar wants to kill him, Mohinder figures he will walk right up and stab him in the front.

Mohinder keeps his eyes focused forward. 

** **

**II   
**   
_"My father who you murdered." _

_"Your father who betrayed me. Don't make that same mistake, Mohinder."   
_  
For months the words have played over again in his mind. Twisting and turning in on each other, all the way through, then with hesitations and emphasis, trying to make sense of the backwards riddle.

Mohinder wonders what Sylar would consider an act of betrayal. A spinal tap and gunshot to the head apparently had not counted.

Neither, so it would seem, was withholding the cure all blood.

His father had cut Sylar off and walked away. It had cost him everything.

Mohinder had actively played with Sylar's life but was still breathing.

Was the difference in their traitorous behavior that Mohinder's actions still acknowledged the powerful threat that Sylar posed whereas Chandra had dismissed him like a crushed bug on the heel of his shoe?

Like father, not like son.

There are times when Mohinder speculates if it would be easier to be in a position of fear over Sylar killing him than constantly paranoid he will show up with a list of warped demands to be carried out.

Those fatalistic thoughts rarely last long.

It is not something he sets out to do, but taking the hard road has become a habit of Mohinder's. 

 

**  
III   
**  
"I know you don't understand it, but Molly is just as safe with me as she would be with you, wherever you decide to go," Mohinder argues leaning forward with his hands gripping the edge of the kitchen table.

"Even if that's the case, as screwed up as that logic is, you're still missing the bigger picture," Matt retorts leaning back against the kitchen counter while meeting Mohinder's resistant eyes with his own unwavering ones.

"Really? And what would that be?" Mohinder asks dismissively.

"The odds are that Sylar will show up again, right?" Matt pointedly asks.

Mohinder sighs for the imposing shadow over his life that he will never escape. So much a part of him, it's like breathing.

"Yes," he is forced to admit. "But he won't risk hurting her--,"

"And how do you think Molly feels?" Matt cuts Mohinder off.

A slightly confused look works its way on Mohinder's face while he stands up and rests one hand on the back of the chair.

"How does she feel knowing she's protected?" Mohinder asks gearing up for the potentially escalating fight in which his own ability to protect the young girl he has come to think of as family is being called into question.

Keeping his eyes leveled at Mohinder's, Matt walks over and closes off the space between them. Unflinching he puts his pissed off face in Mohinder's.

"How does she feel seeing her parents murderer and you playing games?" Matt questions sternly.

Like a punch to the gut Matt's words knock the wind out of Mohinder. The plain truth he had worked so hard to ignore is now painted in big bold colours. When had he lost sight of these rules? When had he unthinkingly dragged Molly in as a player for a game she should have no part in?

Reprimanded, Mohinder cannot do anything but look away from Matt's accusing gaze.

 

** IV  **

Just after 1:00 am the subway train rolls under New York City.

The nearly empty subway car contains a few nighttime stragglers, some exhaustively trying to get home without dozing off while others loudly chatter about being late for their party.

Removed from the somewhat regretfully missed banality of normal life are two lone figures in the empty corner, their hushed voices barely breaking across the length of the car.

"Bob still doesn't suspect anything?" Peter asks worriedly.

"No," Mohinder answers quickly but then expounds. "If he does he has not given anything away. Of course Elle has been at my side constantly."

Peter shoots Mohinder an amused look.

With a nervous smile Mohinder says, "To be honest she creeps me out with all the…touching and general oddness."

Peter stifles an understanding laugh before turning serious again.

"But she could potentially be on our side?" he asks.

Mohinder thinks over his answer before answering with a cautious, "Potentially." He drags the word out slowly.

The sudden squeak of the brake rails solicits a grimace from all the riders, some rushing to cover their ears, before the noise settles into a mechanical rattle.

"He hasn't made contact with you?" Peter returns to their conversation.

Surprised, Mohinder finds himself on the end of Peter's curious gaze.

"No…" Mohinder slowly responds.

Peter catches Mohinder's attempt to hold one of his thoughts back. They both know Peter could easily slip into Mohinder's brain without resistance but there is an unspoken understanding between them that became effective as they tried to get their friendship back on track.

"But…" Peter fishes for information the old fashioned way.

"But nothing," Mohinder yawns. "He is out there doing…I know not what. I can reasonably guess that he only has access to the powers he had before. The old list is destroyed and there's no hard copy with the new names."

"But you think that at some point he'll go after The Company?" asks Peter.

"Knowing Sylar," Mohinder says contemplatively, "he plans to bring down some sort of harsh punishment against those who stole his powers, so-to-speak."

Peter leans back and folds his arms across this chest. An uncertain expression that befalls his face prompts Mohinder to ask him what he is thinking.

Peter hesitates before admitting, with a trace of embarrassment, "We're all kind of going after the same thing. With his powers and mine, on the same side, we could be unstoppable."

A hint of red brightens Peter's cheeks with the confession of possibly working with a serial killer who tried to turn him into an exploding mass murderer.

No response from Mohinder causes Peter to look at him expectantly. The mildly undisturbed look on Mohinder' s face catches Peter off guard.

"You've thought the same thing!" Peter gasps in cautious wonderment.

"We've both thought—done—crazier things," Mohinder muses. "However it' s completely insane to truly consider this. In any case he would never stoop so low as to come on board with us in some capacity."

With a small smile and eyes on the dirty subway floor, Peter mutters, "Maybe he just needs the right incentive."

The end of their conversation lingers as they silently travel the next few stops. Despite no words spoken out loud, both minds are filled with single-sided conversations weighing lists of pros and cons. 

 

**  
V**

Mohinder's eyes settle on the framed photograph of himself with Molly taken three months earlier.

His mother had sent a long purple tunic with golden embroidery as a gift for Molly and the young girl had insisted on wearing it immediately along with Mohinder in a burnt orange one he had hung away in the back of his closet.

The photograph had been Molly's idea, a keepsake that Matt had gladly taken.

The next day had come Matt's declaration that Molly was not safe with Mohinder.

It has been two months since Matt had moved Molly with him to an apartment thirty minutes away from Mohinder 's. Despite this being the first time Mohinder has seen her since the move, he has called her every other night before she goes to bed

Mohinder picks up the frame and gazes at the faces smiling back at his.

"It's good for you here?" Mohinder asks thoughtfully, realizing he is coasting between wanting her to be happy and wanting her to plead to go home with him.

"It's okay, I guess," Molly answers quietly.

Mohinder puts the photograph down and looks over to her. Sitting on the edge of her bed with her legs hanging over the side and her hands pressed down into the bed on either side of her, Molly watches him guardedly.

An apologetic look appears on Mohinder's face.

"You know Matt's right," Mohinder explains. "It's not just Sylar showing up again, it's other people who are interested in my work who could be trouble for you."

A glimmer of sadness in her eyes, Molly mutters, "I know—it's just…I miss the old apartment and your cooking and the…I don't like being away from you."

Mohinder sighs and sits down next to her. Placing an arm around her tiny shoulders he waits for her to sniffle back her tears and look up at him.

"If I had my way things would be different," Mohinder admits. "You know that right?"

Molly nods yes and Mohinder squeezes her shoulders in a half embrace. He does his best to give her the biggest smile he can. Soon Molly grins back.

"Until things…we can always talk on the phone or email…How about I write you letters? Whether I'm in New York or away for work—you could amass a collection from all over the world," Mohinder suggests.

The idea of Mohinder writing her letters from wherever he is brings a light to Molly's eyes that Mohinder immediately recognizes. A sense of relief washes over him.

"You know, Molly," he decides to use the opportunity to hint at the other connection the two of them share, "if he shows up here he won't hurt you—but you must let me know."

"I know," she quietly admits. "He…"

The unexpected sentence left hanging in the air raises Mohinder's guard.

"He—have you seen him?" Mohinder asks quickly.

"No," Molly answers, "but sometimes I think I do…I'm too scared to look, but I think he's…"

"Molly," Mohinder's voice is suddenly commanding, "if he shows up you need to stay as calm as possible—I know he's scary, but try to do what he asks, within reason."

Mohinder glances up at her bedroom door before looking back at her.

"You may need to bring up my name to keep him from hurting Matt…but odds are he'll be wanting to get you to…"

Mohinder stops speaking as a sudden thought races through his mind.

"Mohinder?" Molly's voice breaks through.

Mohinder looks down at her.

"If he comes—if he comes looking for me it's okay to tell him exactly where I am."

"Why would I tell him?" Molly suddenly looks panicked. "What do you mean where you are?"

"I should be the one dealing with him directly, not you—you shouldn't have to worry about him, okay?" Mohinder says refusing to look away until she silently nods in understanding.

"Where are you going? What are you doing?" Molly finally asks.

Mohinder looks over at their photograph on her bookshelf.

"To play follow the leader." 

 

**VI**

Sao Paulo, Havana, Lima   
London, Glasgow,   
Mogadishu, Kinshasa,   
Tangiers,   
Alicante,   
Johannesburg   
Karachi, Damascus   
Moscow   
New Dehli   
Phoom Penh, Kuala Lumpur, Jakarta   
Perth   
Osaka

Mohinder's life becomes a flipbook of time zones…and breadcrumbs. 

 

**VII**

His third trip to Toronto in the last two months; it is a crisp October day as Mohinder briskly walks along Bloor Street towards the university.

As lost in his own thoughts as he is while negotiating the busy sidewalk filled with shoppers, students and business people, Mohinder immediately notices the matching footsteps that appear to his right, keeping pace with him.

Without thinking, Mohinder smiles to himself.

"When did you find me?" Mohinder asks without looking over.

"Lima," Sylar answers. "Heading to work?"

"Dr. Abdullah has allowed me to use the university's lab facilities for my research," Mohinder explains skirting around a slow walker and nearly stepping into Sylar's side.

A quick glance at each other sets in a feeling of awkward familiarity.

"He's been very understanding," Mohinder continues with his eyes focused forward.

"Has he?" Sylar jokes. "Maybe I--,"

"No," Mohinder cuts him off emphatically.

Their self-imposed silence is only broken by the noise of honking cars and chattering passersby.

"How many did you…how much did you take?" Mohinder eventually asks.

His regret trips him up over the loaded words bristling with unspoken consequences. At the same time a red light brings them to a stop.

"Enough for now," Sylar replies vaguely.

Mohinder turns to look at him, his worry over Sylar's evasive remark written all over his face. Sylar lets out a derisive laugh that matches his mischievous eyes.

"You were very precise, Mohinder," Sylar relents. "I took no more, no less."

Mohinder nods his head but the look of uncertainty over the plan of action he has put in place suggests the weight of the startling reality beginning to settle in.

Sylar opens his mouth as if it speak, his eyes slightly less firm in their stare, when everyone around them starts a surge forward for the green light.

Their gaze broken they both start walking.

"Are you coming with me?" Mohinder attempts to counter the heavy mood by sounding light.

"I thought I should see where you work while you're in this city," Sylar replies, his tone matching Mohinder's strained one.

Still at a steady pace they keep in stride with each other, arms brushing as they move into each other and then apart.

"What about the others?" Mohinder asks.

"They know now to look over their shoulders," Sylar states.

A strange feeling of resignation settles in the pit of Mohinder's stomach. The lives he has now put in danger beyond the threat of The Company force his insides to clench painfully. He has deliberately delivered an entirely different threat to the doorsteps of innocent people. As much as he can justify his decisions, and it is a mantra confession he repeats every night as he tries to convince himself he is not being completely naïve or malicious, he has also knowingly begun a very disturbing set of plays.

Maybe he is not so different from a father whose shadow he has long since stepped outside of.

Like Chandra, he will have to pay for this.

The cost will be great.

But not right now.

There is too much to still be done; too much that must be carried out if the future is to be worth living at all. He will willingly suffer the consequences; accept the punishment, after.

Looking too far down the road, trying to read the distant future, is too risky. Each step taken sends a ripple outward that alters the next day in some way. When he thinks about the future it is not a decade from now or at the end of his lifetime. It is a few months down the road, maybe a year.

Life has become a series of New Years resolutions. For now he must be able to forgive himself.

A broken smile, amused and fatigued, settles on his face.

"Who would have thought you'd be working with Peter to bring down The--," Mohinder mulls over.

"I'm not working with Peter," is Sylar's instantaneous reply, absolute in its resolve. "I'm working with you."

The clear confession halts Mohinder's steps, nearly resulting in the businessman a few feet behind colliding into him before a last second side step and an annoyed glare.

Mohinder hardly notices. He remains focused on Sylar who has continued onward a few steps before realizing that Mohinder is no longer beside him. Sylar stops and turns around.

With a challenging look Sylar says, "You know full well I'm doing this with you, not them."

"It's the same thing," Mohinder contradicts Sylar after a momentary pause while the takes a few steps forward.

Sylar waits for Mohinder to stop next to him.

It occurs to Mohinder that Sylar may be able to read the truth of understanding he has tried to keep covered. The truth that he knows Sylar is doing this with only the two of them in mind and no one else. The truth that he knew Sylar would heed his call; learn the steps to be followed for this round. The truth that they are on the same side, all others be damned; because he cannot do this without Sylar, just as much as Sylar needs him.

"No it's not the same thing," Sylar corrects Mohinder firmly.

Mohinder shifts his eyes to look elsewhere, to avoid what is being said in code, but Sylar refuses to be ignored.

"This is as much us as anything else," Sylar quietly says while leaning towards Mohinder. "What you've now done--,"

"I have to believe the sacrifice is worth it or else…" Mohinder rapidly hushes back. "I have to believe that those lives you've—that I led you to—that there is something larger to balance the scales."

Sylar tilts his head back and thoughtfully watches Mohinder's face riddled with concern. Reaching up Sylar picks up a loose thread from Mohinder's jacket and tosses it aside.

"It is worth it," Sylar says. "But you still have blood on your hands."

Sighing, Mohinder looks down and then continues walking. Sylar silently remains next to him.

Clenching his hands in a symbolic gesture of wiping them clean, Mohinder then relaxes them, letting them swing at his side.

Mohinder ponders Sylar's last words.

"We all do," Mohinder assuredly professes.

Committing his focus forward he can no longer remain ignorant of the looming presence infused to his side. 


End file.
